


a modest proposal

by dilkirani



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, I just want these two to be happy forever, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, with a special appearance by ship captain Daisy Johnson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:32:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dilkirani/pseuds/dilkirani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Simmons is not about to wait for Fitz to propose; that'd probably take another decade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a modest proposal

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I wrote this before the finale to work out my stress, haha.  
> 2\. Love & cuddles with Iain for itsavolcano for editing!  
> 3\. I had to trust the internet for the Scottish Gaelic translation, so feel free to correct me.

“I’m going to propose,” Jemma blurts, out of nowhere, hand trembling enough that she has to set her tea down.

Linda raises her eyebrows and smirks but doesn’t say anything, so Jemma continues rambling, nervously. 

“I mean, it’s been long enough. We’ve been dating almost a year, and it’s not like we even needed that long to get to know each other or figure out if we’re compatible or any of that usual stuff. We’ve talked about it a bit, just how we feel about marriage as an abstract concept. But really, he hasn’t hinted that he’s even planning anything and what, are we supposed to wait another ten years? I mean,  _honestly_.”

“Jemma Simmons, are you asking for my blessing?”

“What? Oh, no. I mean, we’re adults. Fitz is perfectly capable of making his own decisions. You know, I always thought that was such a ridiculous…” Jemma trails off as she considers. “Although, actually, Fitz thinks the world of you. So maybe… yes? Please?” 

Linda laughs and squeezes Jemma tightly, her ribs aching pleasantly. “Jemma, the day he became friends with you, he called me and talked about you for hours. It was the first time in months that he hadn’t said anything about being homesick or lonely. I would have given you my blessing then.”

Jemma grins and hugs Linda back, surprised at how emotional she feels. 

“Leo will probably disagree,” Linda rolls her eyes fondly, “but I tried not to interfere  _too much_. I have had a lot of time on my hands lately, though, so there’s a small box upstairs of wedding inspirations. You know, if you’d like any help. I’m not running around saving the world constantly, after all.”

Jemma never dreamed about her wedding. She never thought she’d have time or a desire to get married, honestly, let alone have an extravagant party celebrating such. But sitting in the Fitzs’ cozy kitchen, having breakfast with her (hopefully—well, he’ll say yes, surely, but best not to jinx it—okay, that’s not very scientific but they  _are_  potentially cursed) future mother-in-law, the woman who’s been a second mother to her for half her life, she feels schoolgirl giddy in a way she normally never does unless she’s solved a particularly frustrating lab problem.

“Have you… well, I know it’s not exactly traditional, but have you got a ring?” Linda asks, breaking Jemma from her daydreaming.

“Oh! No, I hadn’t really thought about it.” Jemma worries her bottom lip. “Should I have? I suppose I have time to run out.”

Linda reaches for her necklace, hidden underneath her nightgown. On it is a plain gold band with engraving on the inside. “It was Leo’s father’s,” she says softly, holding it towards her. “You can give it to him, if you’d like.”

“Linda… I can’t. This is yours, you’ve been wearing it this whole time. I couldn’t possibly—”

Linda carefully removes the necklace and places the ring in Jemma’s outstretched palm. “Leo’s father was my best friend,” she says, and Jemma looks up at her, mesmerized. Fitz hardly ever talks about his father; he had died when he was only seven. She knew he remembered his father—he had talked about his laugh and how he always encouraged his “spearmints.” But he remembered more the painful absence, the times when he’d wanted his dad’s strength and advice, but had nothing.

“I know everyone says marriage is work, but it never felt that way with him. People think I’m just romanticizing the past, but it’s true. We had our arguments like anyone, but our relationship felt so… effortless. I’ve always wanted that for Leo. He was such a shy, sensitive child. I used to worry about what would happen to him when I wasn’t here anymore, but I haven’t worried about that in a long time. And for a parent, that’s such a blessing. I know you two already have what his father and I had—marriage won’t change that. But it’s a beautiful sentiment, all the same. It’s your choice, of course, but I would be honored if you took this ring.”

Linda is crying and Jemma can’t help it, she starts sniffling too. She used to be able to hide some of her emotions, but the longer she spends with Fitz, the more she thinks she’s picking up on his inability to mask what he’s feeling. She runs her finger over the worn engraving:  _gu suthain sìorraidh_

Fitz stumbles into the kitchen then—bleary-eyed, threadbare monkey pajama pants, curls sticking up in all directions. He’s asking for tea with a sleep-thickened brogue so heavy she almost can’t understand him. She’s never been more in love.

“You have to come with me,” she announces suddenly, jumping up and almost upending her chair. Linda stares, wide-eyed, and bites down on her lip to hide her grin.

“Wha–? Now? Where? I’m not even dressed yet, Jem. And I’m peckish.” Fitz is always at his most childlike in the mornings at his mum’s house, and Jemma feels both annoyance and adoration deep in her bones.

Linda quickly grabs a thermos to fill with tea as Jemma stuffs a few scones into the pockets of her rain jacket.

“This is bloody ridiculous. It’s raining outside! Can’t I just change?” Fitz looks from Jemma to his mother and feels like he must still be dreaming, but Jemma gives him a silent, pleading look and Fitz immediately shuts up. He has never once said no to Jemma Simmons.

He grabs his boots and a light rain jacket, following Jemma out the door. He’s grumbling a bit about the early morning walk but trails off when she laces her fingers through his, swinging his arm gently.

When they had first started actually  _dating_ , it felt like both the most exciting thing she’d ever experienced and the most comfortable continuation of a decade-long friendship. Her fingers would tingle whenever they held hands and her heart would speed up when he smiled at her—that particular soft, infatuated smile that he saved only for her, only in their most precious moments. It’s been almost a year, but none of those feelings have subsided. Maybe it’s dangerous to have your body constantly buzzing, constantly in tune with another person, but she’s too far gone to worry about it now.

Jemma leads him down a narrow path. “Where are we going?” he finally asks, when they’ve been walking for twenty minutes and she hasn’t slowed down.

She falters for a second, looking up at him with a quick frown. “Er… I’m not actually sure,” she admits, suddenly second-guessing her course of action. This is why preparation is key. She’s not spontaneous. Linda knew she wasn’t spontaneous; she should have stopped this.

“I’m sorry, Fitz,” she says, deflating a bit. “Do you want to turn back?”

He gives her an unreadable look, but shrugs. “We’re out here. Must’ve been important to keep me from a leisurely breakfast.”

Right. It  _is_  important. Prepared or not, she’s doing this now. They walk a bit farther when Jemma spots a bench under a tree. It’s wet and dirty, but it might be the closest to perfect she’ll find.

She motions for him to sit and he does so, quickly drinking some of his tea. She tries to smile through her nerves, but it comes out as more of a grimace.  _Get it together, Simmons. Remember when you survived alone on an alien planet? This is nothing!_  But it feels like everything.

“So,” she starts, and then stops just as quickly, realizing that she hasn’t even memorized a speech.

“So….?” He repeats. He glances at her face and suddenly looks a bit concerned. “What’s this about, Jems? You’re not, I mean, you’re not breaking up with me right? Because can we talk about that first? I’m sorry I was so grumpy this morning, but I promise—”

“Fitz!” She cuts him off with a laugh. “No, of course I’m not breaking up with you! Why would you even ask that?”

“I dunno, you’re being so strange! You and my mum looked like you were having a serious chat, she’d definitely been crying, you wouldn’t even let me get dressed!”

He genuinely looks a bit afraid, and Jemma realizes that she doesn’t need a speech prepared because she has loved this ridiculous man for over half of her life and there’s nothing she knows better than his heart, the cadence of his voice, the vivid expressions of his eyes.

“Actually, I was going to propose,” she says casually, and he chokes on his tea.

“Wait, but—what? But—”

She cuts him off, raising a hand and feeling her face flush.

“I think we should get married. I know it’s just a social construct, really, but there is also something to be said for the safety of being legally married. And whether I  _agree_  with the implications or not, being married does change how the world views your relationship.”

“You’ve really captured the romance of the thing,” Fitz interjects, but he’s grinning.

“ _Ugh_ , Fitz, shut up! What I’m  _trying_  to say is, I know you’ve always been it for me, and you will be forever. And I want everyone else to know that too. I don’t want there to be any doubts about what we are to each other. You’re the most precious thing in my life. I thought I couldn’t feel any more fulfilled with our relationship than when we were just friends and colleagues, but these past months, I just… I’ve never felt this way, about anyone. It’s been over a decade and  everything I feel for you just keeps getting stronger. You’re my person, Fitz. I love every aggravating, romantic, frustrating, genius, wonderful, perfect thing about you, and I know I always will. The way I feel about you, what you are to me… that’s the one thing in my life I can never doubt. And it sounds silly, but I want a party with everyone we love because you will look so handsome in a tux and I think, after everything, we deserve this, you know?”

His eyes are wide as tears, barely distinguishable from the raindrops, run down his face, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Fitz?” She feels around in her pocket and pulls out his father’s ring. “I uh, I have a ring. If that makes a difference?”

He catches sight of the engraving. “Is that—?”

“Your dad’s ring, yeah. That’s why your mum and I were crying, actually.”

“I uh… I was going to propose to you,” he says, glancing up at her. “I was making you a ring, but it’s not quite finished. I thought, after we got back from this trip, I’d have everything ready.”

Jemma’s heart constricts as she imagines him working meticulously on a ring for her in between their other assignments.

“You haven’t actually answered, you know?” she says finally, mostly to distract from how overwhelmed she’s feeling.

“Oh,” he laughs. “Yeah, of course! It was quite a lovely speech, after all.” He extends his hand and she giggles as she puts the ring on. “I sound pretty impressive. I can see why you’d want to lock it down.” Jemma immediately scoffs, but he grabs her and kisses her before she can argue.

He breaks the kiss first and rests his forehead on hers, sobering instantly. “I love you. So much. I would be honored to marry you.”

She smiles and nuzzles his nose, feeling like she could burst and wondering how exactly she’d be able to get her vows out in front of everyone if she’s like this now.

“But, can I still do my proposal? It’s just, I had a speech planned out too. It’s not like I’ll get to use it on anyone else, I suppose.”

She laughs and kisses him again. She remembers, hazily, a time when being around him made her cry, when she couldn’t imagine being happy again, or even deserving to feel happy. Now she can’t get through a moment with Fitz without laughing. Her face constantly hurts, in the best way.

“Of course. We can get engaged as often as we like.”

She leans her head on his shoulder, feeling like a drowned rat and yet content to stay here forever. “You know, it’s true, wedding rings do make men more attractive,” she muses as he twists the ring on his finger.

“Yeah?” he asks, smirking as he oh-so-casually runs his left hand through his hair. She laughs but then pulls his mouth down to hers before he can react, kissing him with all she has and wondering in the back of her head how many people come out this far, really. Surely no one would notice them hidden here.

When they finally break apart, out of breath, she feels simultaneously enamored at the thought of  _marrying_  Fitz and a bit embarrassed at her inability to keep her hands to herself in public.

“Shall we head back?” she asks, futilely attempting to smooth her skirt out as a way to keep her traitorous hands otherwise occupied.

“Yeah, in a few minutes. I have a feeling my mum’s called all the neighbors by now for a celebratory breakfast, so it might be a madhouse.”

His smile suddenly slips and he grabs her hands tightly, imploring. “My dad was a good husband and a good father,” he whispers, unexpectedly vulnerable. “I hope I can be half that.”

Jemma thinks she can never be close enough to Fitz—that no matter what she feels for him, he’ll never be able to see even a fraction of it. These bodies and words are too limited, but she will spend the rest of her life trying. She pulls him tight against her, freezing herself in this moment, in Fitz.

“You’re more than that, Fitz. You’re so much more than that, and you always have been.”

++

By the time they arrive back at Linda’s, the place has been transformed and a mass of people are crushing them into hugs, heedless of the rain and mud they’ve tracked back with them. The large, prettily decorated “Congratulations, Leo & Jemma!” banner strung across the living room is enough to make Jemma doubt Linda’s assertion that she’d only just been preparing for these eventualities.

“What if he’d said no?” she asks, laughing.

Linda scoffs. “I didn’t raise a fool son. Although it did take him long enough.” Fitz looks up sheepishly and gives his mum a kiss on her forehead.

“ _Muuuuuum_ ,” he draws out, cheeks reddening. “Isn’t this a bit much?”

“Leopold Fitz, I have wasted  _years_  of my life waiting on you two to get your act together. Don’t you dare stop me from celebrating.”

Properly chastised, he engulfs her in a hug. “Thanks for Dad’s ring, Mum,” he says. “I promise I’ll do my best to honor him.”

Linda ruffles his hair, incredulous. “Well, I’m probably just going to give you an even bigger head than you already have, but I’m so proud of the person you’ve become. And your dad would be as well, don’t you ever doubt that.”

Just when Fitz looks like he might succumb to tears once more, one of his mum’s friends yells out, “Okay, you three! Under the banner, let’s have a picture!”

Fitz makes a show of groaning, but dutifully positions himself under the banner, his mum and Jemma tucked beneath each arm.

Jemma has experienced the most unimaginable of horrors and she recognizes that she might never truly recover from her past traumas. But she’s also immersed in the sweet wholeness of being pressed up next to Fitz—her  _fiancé —_who’d promised to stay with her forever. She can’t help thinking she might be the luckiest person in the universe.

++

 


End file.
